The Green Rose
by emeralds in ebony
Summary: ONE SHOT: It is the Final Battle. In a secluded destination, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger are left dueling alone. Only one can come out alive, but which one? It is difficult to watch someone you love, hate you.


**The Green Rose**

First it was faint, but then the coughs became clearer. They were feminine, although it was hard to tell. The fog blocked out any view of the field, and only allowed everything to be hidden. Slowly, the fog began to clear, and there stood out Hermione Granger.

Her eyes narrowed, her hair was frizzed up in the air above her head. Looking at her, you could tell she had seen more than her eighteen years of living.

Limping away from where the smoke had been erupting from, she looked back quickly. As if to be wiping away tears, Hermione touched her cheeks. Letting her arms fall back down, she coughed a few more times.

Then, she stopped after she had taken a couple steps. Stooping low, Hermione picked a thin object up in her dirty hands. Staring down at it, she blew on it, getting the dust off it. It could be seen as what it truly was now; a wand; _his_ wand. Carefully, she clamped her hand around the familiar wand and shut her eyes.

Several tears escaped from her lids, cascading down her cheeks that were red from all the heat. Once she opened her eyes, Hermione let her grip loosen on the wand. She stood up with difficulty, yet didn't bother to brush herself off; she was too filthy at the moment to care. 

Looking around herself, she noted that she was alone. Alone...what a strange word. She had never been this lonely before. There had always been Harry and Ron with her. But now, they had left her to fight their own battles. However, they had not known that Hermione had been fighting along with them all this time. Guiltily, Hermione wiped her cheeks quickly, but then the corner of her eye caught sight of something bright.

To her right, she glanced. Turning herself fully around, Hermione's eyes widened upon the sight her eyes saw. A glowing green rose lay on the floor a couple feet away from her. The rose, Hermione remembered, had not been glowing that strongly a couple moments ago, so she knew something was out of the ordinary, and she had an idea what it could be.

With long strides, Hermione walked over to the bright rose, and bent down. Taking it into her right hand, her eyes shut off, and the memories instantly fell upon her.

_"Hermione," Ron started. "I - We - " he corrected himself, motioning to Harry beside him. " - Just came to let you know that we're going to go off into battle."_

Hermione briefly glanced at Harry before looking back toward Ron. Her eyebrows were raised, and she shrugged lightly.

"I know that, Ron." She swallowed. "I'm coming too, right?"

Ron looked as if he had decided against what he was about to say. Looking back toward Harry, he blinked. Harry, understanding his friend's motives, cut into the conversation.

"Yeah, about that, Hermione. We don't want to put you in danger-"

"Danger_?" Hermione asked incredulously. "Is that all you can think about right now? Harry, Voldemort is out there now, and he is thinking of strategies against us. I am not leaving you two to fight him off without me. I am not that much of a coward."_

Ron smiled against his friend's sudden anger. He leaned his hand in toward Hermione's cheek. Caressing it lightly, he shook his head.

"Who said you weren't courageous?" His hand fell low. His smile also did. "It's just - Hermione, we don't want to lose you." 

"I can fight," Hermione explained determindly. 

"We know that," Harry replied.

Groaning, he looked around the Gryffindor Common Room as if the things that were left to say were written on the bare, white walls. A moment later, he turned back to his friend, and cleared his throat.

"Dumbledore agrees with us." His voice was quiet, barely audible.

Hermione heard him though. "What?" she exclaimed.

Standing up from her seat at their usual table in the common room, she glared down at the two young men. Both Harry and Ron followed her lead, standing up after her, and stared at their friend guiltily. There was a pregnant pause, but it was soon broken.

"Hermione, it's final." Ron frowned. "You're not fighting in the Final Battle."

His red hair had been let out to grow, and he looked much younger than how old he really was. Quidditch had done him good, by giving him quick reflexes just like Harry.

Harry, on the other hand, still looked about the same. Same green eyes, messy, black hair, and legendary scar. Hermione had never seen him look more serious than he did at that precise moment. She knew better than to object to their wishes, but she was beyond furious. She had to let her rage go.

"Harry, I am not going to stand back while you are in jeopardy of dying! How thick do you think I am?" she asked, her voice on the verge of cracking. One second she was looking at Harry, the next at Ron.

"I'm sorry, Hermione." Harry sighed. "But this is the way things have to be done. Either way, you are not going to die; I promise you that."

"I don't want your promises!" Hermione objected. "I just want you to be alive - You and Ron!" She looked at Ron for support, but once she saw his sullen gaze, she knew he would not be backing her up. Defeated, she stared at Harry. 

"Hermione, I don't know what I would do if you died." Harry paused. "And I am not going to let that happen while I'm alive."

Harry looked as if he was about to burst. His cheeks were red, his eyes weary, and a bead of sweat had just trickled down his forehead. Just as soon as he had taken a deep breath, he had turned around and strode toward the staircase. 

"Harry!" Hermione shouted to his back, but to no prevail.

Without once looking back, Harry took off up the stairs, and only a slam of a door was heard seconds later. Hermione winced at the sound, realizing just how much rage Harry had bottled up. He had a lot of grief in him as well.

Hermione glanced at Ron, wondering why he hadn't taken off after Harry. Ron, understanding Hermione's bewilderment, locked gazes with Hermione's. 

"Hermione," he began softly. "You have to know that Harry and I care about you so much. We rather die by the hands of Voldemort than knowing that we had allowed you to be put in danger on the most dangerous day in wizard history!" he explained. 

Hermione didn't even nod. She just stared at the red-haired man in front of her. He was towering over her, but he didn't let that be an advantage. No, he knew how much Hermione wanted to be an equal, and so be it, he loved her potential. Hard thing was that she would not stop with her stubbornness.

She was speechless. Nothing came out of her mouth, and that is why Ron sighed for the umpth time that night. Quickly, he turned on his heel and followed Harry's previous steps up the staircase and toward the boys' dormitories. 

Hermione didn't bother to call out this time, understanding her friends' conflict. Taking her seat again, she placed her chin on her bent elbow, letting it rest there for the time being. Finally, she heard the door upstairs slammed shut for the second time in five minutes, and it was only then that she allowed the tears to fall.

**:-:-:**

_Dawn came as soon as dusk had fallen the previous night. The time was nearing for the battle that had been known to come for many years. The participants of the war were all in the Great Hall, preparing for their act of defense._

Harry, leading all the Houses except Slytherin, had woken up that morning uncomfortably. The previous night's arguement still lingered in his mind, and he knew Ron could tell he was still disappointed with himself; he hadn't let Hermione do the one thing she wanted to do, and that was to help him.

The sounds of the Great Hall were growing louder, many more participants showing up later on in the morning. With only a couple hours to spare, Hermione began to explain the plan of their side, the Light Side. Immediately did everyone in the hall quiet down and listen to Harry Potter.

"We are all the meet Voldemort where the Forbidden Forest begins, and where the calm grounds end. Voldemort, himself, had sent me the letter advising to where we were going to have this final mean of battle."

Everyone looked at him sullenly. Ron, from Harry's side, stared up at him from where he sat down at the Gryffindor Table, for Harry had stood up on the table to get a better view of everyone else.

Dumbledore and the rest of the staff involved in the battle, that belonged to the Light Side, were seated at the staff table, listening eagerly to Harry's instructions carefully and quietly. One teacher, however, was not among the rest of them; Severus Snape. Harry had been told by Dumbledore that he would be on the Dark Side, but only to trick that side and do all our intentions instead.

Harry, even though he did not trust Snape, took Dumbledore's word on it. Dumbledore had grown older and wiser, and he knew what could end up as the result of a foolish act. Harry did not want to be the one causing it either.

So, Harry explained the plan from his perspective. He noticed that Hermione hadn't come down out of his dormitory that morning, and to that he felt awful. Although he had a huge role to perform today, and that was to defeat the Dark Lord. With or without Hermione, Harry would do his best, and he would do it all while knowing that Hermione was out of any danger ready to harm her.

**:-:-:**

_Unknown to everyone else, the Gryffindor Tower wasn't empty. A young girl, with her long brown curls falling into her face as she rushed, made her way down the steel staircase that led to the Gryffindor Common Room._

Hermione Granger, safely swinging a black messenger bag onto her right shoulder, looked around before reaching the Portrait Hole. No one was in sight, and she let out a relieved exhale. In her right hand was her wand, and she scurried out of the hole in front of her quickly, yet quietly.

In her other hand, she held a small piece of parchment that had been bent down the middle. She stopped in her tracks right outside the Gryffindor Common Room, and looked down at the paper in her hand. She opened up the object for a clearer view of it. Once open from all sides, the crisp paper turned out to be a photo, a picture of her, Harry, and Ron in their Hogwarts robes. The picture had been taken earlier this year, and Hermione had always enjoyed taking a look at this specific one. So, she had decided to take it with her when she would help the Light Side out in secret. Even if Harry didn't think it was a good idea.

**:-:-:**

_Somewhere off the edge of where all the calm wind lingered, a group of cloaked figures were herded amongst one another under the shade of a big oak tree. In the midst of it all stood a tall man, yet having not much of a physical feature._

His eyes gleamed as he spoke, and all the people around him welcomed his greedy words and warnings. They had all been given a job in the battle, but there was one person, in particular, who hadn't been assigned a role as of yet. His time was to come.

"Young Malfoy," the Dark Lord's voice mustered out.

Among the darkly lit crowd, a tall, lithe man stepped forward, closer to Voldemort. He bowed his head momentarily, and then looked back at him with his eyes shielded by the hood of his cloak he wore.

He let it fall back, and his hair fell out of its lock instantly. His pale features, still the same, stood out, and his eyes gleamed with triumph and hate. He was ready for his need in the battle of all the witches and wizards of this time.

"You," Voldemort continued lowly. "Will be in charge of destroying the one thing that truly matters to Harry Potter above all. Even though protected well, it will be an easy task for you to accomplish. Do you wish to take this challenge, young Malfoy?" Voldemort asked persistantly.

Draco Malfoy, his gray eyes swirling, nodded his head, and cleared his throat. "The honor will be all mine, my Lord."

"Very well." Voldemort smiled. His red slitted eyes went tighter, and he cleared his throat to continue speaking. "Your assignment, young Malfoy, is to slaughter Hermione Granger."

**:-:-:**

_The Light Side crowded around the-Boy-Who-Lived, and followed him as he took off from the front doors of the castle. Harry, looking as if he had aged many years in only one night, was ready to fight for every obeying witch and wizard on the planet._

On his right side stood Ron Weasley. Wearing a long, thick cloak, he let his shoulders somewhat droop, but did not let everyone else understand the fear he held in himself.

The beginning of the Forbidden Forest could be seen from where they were walking. The lot of them were all armed and organized. Dumbledore, walking in the back of the crowd, was looking out for the poorer ones of the group; he wasn't ready to allow Voldemort's side to satisfaction of killing any soul as much as he could.

Harry would just not let himself disagreement that he and Ron had had with Hermione last night, and he was feeling as miserable as ever. He just knew that she was in the secure confines of her domritory with the rest of the girls not fighting. There was just a thought on the egde of his mind that Hermione was somehow going to get her way in the end. And as he walked closer to the end of the safety line, he didn't realize how right he really was.

**:-:-:**

_Hermione watched from the egde of the battlefield as Harry, Ron, and their followers walked toward the Forbidden Forest. She couldn't see the Dark Side's fighters, but she was sure they would show up very soon; it was almost time._

So, for the meantime, she crouched down behind a large bush. The noon sun glistened down upon her, and she could feel the dark cloak around her body absorb the wild heat. Regretting her choice of attire for that day, Hermione crossed her arms against her chest, narrowed her eyes, and witnessed the sights before her silently.

After a couple minutes, she saw the group of dark-cloaked wizards and witches making their way toward where the Light Side was huddled. Hermione, knitting her eyebrows together, tensed, and followed them with her eyes. She realized that Harry was waiting for them without any motives, as she could tell. But she knew better, for under it all, Harry was one of the most couragous wizards she had ever known. And for that, she prayed for him and all of good man-kind.

**:-:-:**

_Harry narrowed his eyes as the slimy walking figure crept closer to him. With his followers close behind him with their hoods on, Harry felt the witches and wizards behind him arm themselves immediately._

The way the Dark Side etched toward them took forever to Harry and Ron, but it was only mere seconds. Ron, leveling his wand with his waist, held in his breath as Harry took a couple steps forward, leaving behind the Light Side momentarily.

Ron, staying behind with the rest of the crowd, glanced around for a quick second, then back to where Voldemort was coming from. He could tell who some of his followers were. On his left side, Ron realized that it was Lucius Malfoy by his snake-like walk. Then straight behind him, Ron noticed, was a woman; no doubt, Bellatrix Lestrange. He felt his hand tighten around his wand as he understood who this witch was; she was a murderer. And he hated her for it.

Now Harry felt worried. He was responsible for everyone behind him here. He was in control, and he knew all the Light Side was counting on him to beat Voldemort. And still, in the back of his mind, Hermione's heartbroken face was etched there. He could not get her out of his head.

Voldemort, now just a few yards away, smirked at Harry. Harry, catching it, returned it with a cold scowl. Once his eyes fell on the woman behind him, though, he fell deep into a rage. It was Bellatrix Lestrange, his Godfather's murderer. Harry's feet planted into the ground sullenly, and he glared right at the face hidden under the thick hood of her black cloak. He, however, knew that she could see the expression on his face, and it only caused him more anger.

Once Voldemort was about three feet away from Harry, he stopped, and his followers did upon his comand. He raised his hand at Harry, and smugly smiled at him.

"Potter," he hissed. "Welcome to hell." He motioned his hands all around him.

"It's only hell with you in it," Harry spat back.

Voldemort's grin only widened. "We shall soon see who will be down in hell in a matter of minutes." Harry glared at him as he spoke. "Is your side ready, Potter?" the Dark Lord questioned.

Harry glanced around him, and saw his followers double up around him. He, though, could not notice any sign of Dumbledore, and he felt a panic and relief for that. So, Harry turned back to the Dark Wizard. He raised his right hand, with his wand clasped in, above his torso, and nodded.

"Shall it begin," Voldemort whispered before firing a sudden curse at his opponent.

**:-:-:**

_Hermione's eyes struck with fresh tears as she watched Harry battle with Voldemort, and Ron with Lucius. She began panicking as she watched Neville step toward Bellatrix, and raise his wand at her threateningly. Hermione couldn't keep her hands still as they, too, began dueling._

She began breathing heavily, and finally decided to step into the war. Making up her mind, she began to stand. But just as she was wiping her behind from any dirt or old grass, Hermione heard a slight noise coming from behind her; by the Forbidden Forest.

Somethine inside her was telling her not to go toward the sound, but her ears were mesmorized. Hermione began walking toward the dark forest under the bright noon sun. Right as she was almost inside the forest, she heard her foot cramp on something. Looking down and lifting her leg, her eyes saw a rose, glowing the color green.

Slowly, Hermione bent over after glancing around for anyone, and picked the rose up in her left hand, that wasn't occupied with her wand. Being amazed by the bright color of the rose, she didn't hear any footsteps coming from behind her. And as she raised the rose to sniff from her nose, she did not notice the dark figure that aimed its wand at her.

"Turn around, Granger," the voice demanded.

The rose suddenly fell from Hermione's clutches, and out of panic, she turned around immediately. Gasping at her predator's face, she felt her heart weaken. She had been caught too soon.

**:-:-:**

_Draco Malfoy smirked as he caught his prey walk into the trap he had set up for her. He should have known that the dumb Hermione Granger would be amazed by anything in nature. And right he had been, for here, under his command, was the Gryffindor-Bookworm he had grown to loathe so much._

She was a crest-fallen star in the middle of the forest, and he had picked her up. He cleared his throat as she stared at him with glossy eyes. She had truly been caught off-gaurd and he congratulated himself on that honor.

"Well, if it isn't the infamous Hermione Granger." Draco leaned closer to her, and took hold of her wand. He pocketed it quickly.

"Malfoy," she muttered under her breath angrily.

Draco only grinned wider. "The one and only."

Being this close in proximity with Draco had its disadvantages for Hermione, and advantages for Draco. He thought to himself how much he would enjoy this, destroying the one person he had wanted to beat for so long. And here she was, right in his clutches, and he was prepared.

"Who would have thought the intelligent mudblood would wander off alone, and into the Forbidden Forest for that matter?" He took strands of her brown hair into his spare hand as he continued to speak. "And who would have thought that Potter and Weasley wouldn't be trailing off after you?"

At the mention of her friends, Hermione straightened up. "Shut up, Malfoy," she commanded harshly.

"Oh," Draco said calmly, only hiding his building rage. "I don't think you're the one running the calls, Granger. That would be my job as you can see."

With his eyes, he motioned toward the wand he held profoundly. Hermione, realizing just how right he was, was forced to succumb to him. She stared right into his dark gray eyes, not once breaking eye contact. She didn't droop her shoulders any longer either. But the glowing of the rose below her eyes, still caught her attention, and she wondered what it truly was signalling.

Suddenly, as if understand what she was thinking, Draco muttered something under his breath, and up flew the flower into the air. Letting go of Hermione's hair, he took hold of the rose instead. Letting it rest in front of Hermione's eyes, he sighed contently.

"What one single unique rose can lure right into the dark forest, eh?" He chuckled as Hermione realized she had been lured here.

Her nose scrunched up with disgust, and she narrowed her eyes even more with frustration. Without even feeling it, her hands suddenly were tied together with a thick piece of rope. As Hermione looked down at her bitter fate, she frowned and refused to allow the tears to fall. Looking up at her captor's face, she could see the smug expression he wore, and she felt herself slip away limb by limb.

**:-:-:**

_"Rictu Sempra!" Harry shouted, seeing the bright blue light fly out of the end of his wand._

Heading straight toward the Dark Lord, himself, it hit him straight in the chest. Although, not affected by it pretty much, Voldemort bounded another curse right back to the dark-haired boy.

Harry dodged it at once. He glared at the soul who had killed his parents, and suddenly the need to kill Voldemort grew, and turned into want. Voldemort, though, seemed amused by Harry's antics to harm him.

"Is that all you've got, Potter?" Voldemort yelled across the empty space between them.

There was a brief silence before Harry coughed sourly, and raised his head higher and his chin more forward.

"No, asshole, I've got worse things that this up my sleeve." Harry's eyebrows slanted together as his emotions tranformed.

"Well then," Voldemort hissed, feeling the other boy's hate boil. "Shall we continue?"

His question was answered by a quick curse Harry had chanted under his breath. Unfortunately for Harry, Voldemort dodged this one. Their eyes locked afterwards, and a silent agreement was made; they would fight until one would die, that was for certain.

**:-:-:**

_Hermione fell backwards, with Draco on top of her. Greedily, Draco grabbed a handful of her cloak and ripped it off her body. He looked down at her trembling form with greedy eyes, and feasted upon her frightened features._

"How does it feel, bitch?" he asked audibly. He straddled the young woman and let his hands plant themselves on her shoulder. She gave him an outraged look, and he answered it rudely with another question. "How does it feel to be brought down?"

Hermione, feeling the irony of the question, struggled. How dare he call her such a thing? She had heard enough, and had seen enough. He was this close to breaking her apart already.

"Listen here, Malfoy. I haven't ever done anything to you!" she exclaimed.

In return, Draco smacked her right cheek soundly. Hermione's neck snapped to the other side with the impact of his force, and her eyes widened with shock. Her cheek burned, and she knew there would be a bruise there any moment.

In pain, she turned toward him once again, and looked up at the man that was torturing her slowly. Her eyes were giving into the salty tears producing within herself, but she controlled them once more.

"How can you say and do all this without feeling an ounce of guilt?" she asked him.

From above her, Draco tightened his legs around her waist to increase pressure on the girl. He brought his head down closer to her, and whispered into her ear fiercely.

"Guilt_? Why should I be feeling guilty?" He cleared his throat, bringing his nose right against her own, and it got him a sharp inhale from Hermione. "You are, after all, the one who has always gotten everything in the end. Always shown my father how intelligent I am next to a mudblood!"_

She swallowed hard as his words sunk in deep. "Now that," she whispered quietly, though angrily. "Is your own fault. You know that!"

He raised his hand again threateningly, and she cowered away with a whimper, shutting her eyes instantly. "No," he denied. "The only fault I have is for letting you get the best of me. But not any more." A sinister grin replaced his previous smirk, and Hermione opened her eyes to witness his expression.

"You aren't going to enjoy this as much as I am, just to let you know," he whispered lowly, as he reached down and nibbled on her neck. Hermione sucked in any breath she could hold on to, and held in a moan that was forming in her throat. Even if her mind hated this, her body surely wasn't.

"Admit it, Granger, you want this," were his final words before he took out a pointy dagger from a pocket of his cloak.

Hermione's eyes fell on the sharp object and she immediately fell silent with her whimpers, and she let her body limpen. The man above her really was a maniac. And she, acting on her own judgement, had gotten herself into this mess, and she wasn't going to get out of it correctly.

**:-:-:**

_Ron saw a beam of green shoot out from Lucius' wand. He ducked under the sharp ray, and saw it flash above him. He breathed in, relieved, and stared back at the blonde before him._

"Scared yet, Weasley?" Lucius shouted at the red-head.

Ron, cursing under his breath, let his lips curl in a sneer. "No, not yet," he shouted back.

This only made the elder Malfoy grin. He raised his wand again, but didn't muster up a curse or spell. He began to speak directly to Ron.

"Weasley, where is your precious mudblood?" He grinned wider. "Left you, has she?"

"No!" Ron screamed outraged. "Watch your tongue, Malfoy, before I cut it out."

"Oh," Malfoy let out and faked a pitied expression. "Couldn't have Granger's own tongue, so you'll have to deal with mine? Well, I've got news for you, Weasley. Soon, your mudblood bitch will be rid of from this world along with you and Potter."

Ron, not realizing how true Malfoy's words were on Hermione's part, bit back a sly grin on account of Hermione was safe up in her dormitory with many shielding spells blocking anyone from entering.

"You lie, Malfoy, Hermione isn't anywhere near here."

"But you are wrong," Lucius whispered, and smiled to reveal his yellow teeth to the young man he was standing in front of amidst the final battle. "Hermione Granger has met her match at this very moment."

Understanding his phrase, Ron didn't comprehend it all too fast, and didn't see the bright gleam hurl his way, before it hit him straight in the chest.

**:-:-:**

_"No!" Hermione shouted in a rush. "Please - Please, don't," she whispered to the man above her._

He was holding out the sharp dagger right to the palm of her hand, ready to slice the skin any moment. The gleam in his eyes wasn't predicting, although Hermione knew he would not listen to her pleas.

He liked the feeling of being in control. He watched her hair fall into her eyes from the sudden gust of wind around them, and let his head fall even more forward. He caught her lips unexpectedly, and fell deep into the passion he was starting.

Hermione, defenselss and unable to fight back, was forced to let him play with her lips. She had to let him take all of her innocence and purity from her, and replace it with guilt, dirt, and filth.

Once departing from her lips, Draco smirked. "I didn't know just how good Krum had it with you."

Hermione choked on a sob as he mentioned her previous beau. She struggled beneath him as he spoke that last sentence, but she was held tightly under his weight. Hermione was under his commands as of now, and she knew that Malfoy wouldn't be backing out on his own.

**:-:-:**

_"Longbottom, are you certain of your decision?" Bellatrix Lestrange's eyes were in gleamed slits as she questioned the slightly chubby young man that stood before her._

He held a tough posture, not like his first few years in Hogwarts, but a new one he had earned up until recently. And he glared right back at the witch that had drove his parents to insanity.

His eyes held not a single trace of fear, and he felt proud of himself on getting this far on his own. Knowing that he didn't need the help of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, or Hermione Granger made him understand just how much confidence he had gained.

Lifting his hand with his wand in it, he muttered the two words that would have sealed his fate.

"I am."

**:-:-:**

_Hermione tried focusing on the green rose that was toward the right of her face. She stared at it, trying to eliminate the pain she was feeling from her senses. After a few cuts that she received from Draco, she only felt numb._

Draco, however, couldn't even understand just how much joy he felt at the time. Slicing open the girl's skin before him was the most interesting thing happening to him as of yet. Her blood spilled out from her dead, sliced skin, and fell into trinkles on the grass.

He knew that she was trying to imagine herself in another place, but he didn't say anything. He only pressed the dagger against her skin harder, which emitted a groan on her behalf.

After a couple more cuts on her palms, Draco decided it was time for a more drastic action. He wiped the dagger of any of her foul blood, and placed it back into his cloak pocket. He let the blood fall out of her hands without end, and he stood up quickly. Looking down at her, he raised his wand, and said a curse just as she turned her face directly at him.

The shriek upon receiving the blow of his curse was horrific, however. From her sight, the green rose went away, only replacing by blurriness.

"Malfoy!" she cried out suddenly, only wishing the pain would end, and the end would near.

Draco, from above her, looked down at her without a single trace of any emotion, and watched her writhe and whimper in pain and disgust. She was in a pool of her own blood. He felt somewhat satisfied with himself right then.

As the curse wore off slowly, Draco picked Hermione up by the collar of her shirt with one single hand. She was brought to her feet in pain, and one sheer movement. She hissed in shock and abrupt twinge, and failed in an attempt to open her clamped eyes.

Although, once the soreness was familiar to her body, her eyes opened up. The tears soaked out of her bloodshot eyes, and streaked down her cheeks. Draco looked directly at her, and their noses were almost pressed against one another. He held her close.

"Feeling lucky, Granger?" he asked.

Hermione stayed silent, refusing to answer the slimeball for her sake. She knew he would make her suffer, but this way she knew that she had no way of provoking him for the matter.

The man in front of her, the one she had thought to be innocent, had turned out to be the definition of pure evil. She could not believe that she had recently developed feelings for this man, and immediately regretted everything for it.

"You should be glad that I'm not ripping you apart," he seethed.

This, however, hit a cord in Hermione.

"Ripping_?" she repeated bitterly. "Malfoy, you're slashing me. What difference does it make?"_

She felt him wrap his hand around her throat immediately. She made a choking noise in the back of her throat, and felt it hard to breathe instantly. She saw through the small creaks of her eyes, Malfoy boring down at her with deep eyes.

Crushing her slowly, he enjoyed torturing her. This was an easy task, and he would be congratulated for his accomplishment once Voldemort reigned over soon.

"If only Potter could see you now," he whispered. "If only he could see you broken down at the clutches of a Death-Eater."

"You will never break me, Malfoy," Hermione fought with herself, and retorted back with full force, upon feeling his hand tighten around her neck even more.

"Aw, but sweet Granger," he said mockingly, and let go of her neck abruptly, and watched her fall to a heap on the floor in fascination. "I already have."

**:-:-:**

_Ginny Weasley made her way quietly into the mob of Dark and Light witches and wizards. Under the invisibility she could get under anyone's nose. She had taken the cloak from Harry's dormitory after seeing that Hermione wasn't in her own. She had decided to investigate, and the only conclusion was that she had come to fight in the final battle. Ginny, caring for her close girl friend, would do just about anything to keep her safe. After all, who had always been the one she would go to once she needed help and comfort? Hermione, only Hermione._

She had seen many, many familiar faces and their voices shouting out curses. She was only sixteen, but this young Weasley knew her share of hexes, curses, and enchantments. She had Hermione to thank for all that.

Ginny kept her breathing low and quiet as she walked through the crowd lightly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry blocking an unfriendly spell that had come out from Voldemort's wand. Ginny, remembering Tom Riddle suddenly, had the sudden urge to go show him a piece of her mind. Although, she refrained from doing so.

Her footsteps were silent, and they weren't seen. To her left she saw another familiar face. A tear streaked down her cheek as she witnessed the death of Colin Creevy, a young man she had grown to admire in the friendliest sort. He had fallen so slowly to her, and if she had stopped to see if he hit the ground eventually, she would have been caught by passerbys.

She crept away from that scene, and uncovered another pair of familiarity. From the Dark Side, was Blaise Zabini, a young man who was a year above her at Hogwarts. Now, she could see what kind of a man he had become once he had joined Voldemort's service. He had been dueling with Seamus Finnegan, another boy a year older than she. But Seamus, she knew him enough that he was a very good-hearted soul. And she felt her eyes moisten a bit once she heard Blaise shout the killing curse. Fortunately for her, as if someone had answered her prayers, Seamus was one of the lucky ones who were spared, as he had dodged the curse at the last minute.

Ginny was growing rather upset and worried in moments. She couldn't find Hermione anywhere, and she knew that she had to be out here. Where else would a battle go on? For her mind to answer her own question, her eyes fell onto the Forbidden Forest.

**:-:-:**

_Hermione looked up at the man, ever so slowly, and she felt a warm, sticky substance trail down the valley between her breasts. She glanced down at herself, breathing in sharply at the pain in doing so, and she saw that it was blood searing through the gashes that were marked on her neck. The bastard had gone and harmed her to the extreme._

While looking away from the blonde, Hermione felt herself being lifted up from the ground. Looking back up, she realized that he had cast a lifting charm on her, allowing her to be raised off the ground and into the air.

She tried to speak her mind cruelly, but her voice was gone. Nothing came out of her mouth, not even a squeak could be spared from her dry throat. Hermione glared silently at the blonde with all the strength she had left, and even then was it not good enough.

"Granger," Draco whispered, reaching out a hand to the levitated Gryffindor. He caressed her right cheek with one hand, and gripped his wand tighter in the other. "You cannot possibly imagine how you look right now."

When Hermione didn't say anything or even glare, all she could do was blink. Draco took this as a way for her anger to show, but all he could do was chuckle merely.

"Positively horrid," he answered himself.

Then, he whispered another spell under his breath, and Hermione found herself standing securely on the ground, without having the tempting urge to fall over flat onto her face or bottom. Twisting her neck to get a better view of him, she still felt the immense pain located on her neck, however. That is when she cried out, and sound did come out. Hermione was startled at this, but Draco, apparently, had been expecting it.

"Screaming in pain or ecstacy, Hermione_?" Her name slipped off his tongue so mockingly that she wanted to rip his tongue out of his mouth at the very second. "Either way, you know I win."_

Hermione choked back another cry as she felt herself grit her teeth in absolute revulsion. "Never," she spoke between her crushed teeth. "Will you win. Never - Ever!"

Draco looked upon her face with his own, and placed his long pale fingers against her eyes as if to shield them.

"Such pretty eyes," he whispered. "Too bad they are tainted."

She flinched at his touch, which caused him to cockishly smile. She was afraid of him, and that was all he needed to know to feel well. The Hermione Granger was frightened of him. Such wonderful news should have been reported to The Daily Prophet. Too bad she wouldn't live to see another day from his point of view.

Unknown to Hermione, in a quick second, Draco had bent down and taken in wet dirt into his hand without his wand. Once standing back up straight, he had pushed his filthy hand against Hermione's tear-stricken cheek. The mud mingled with the salty tears instantly and Draco released her from his grip. She fell backward instantly, and onto the ground.

He bent down on the ground, although nothing of pure value for him touched the dirty soil except for his fine italian leather shoes. Hermione, casting her glance downwards, was brought back to reality with him once he had placed his cold hand under her chin to make her head tilt upward towards his own.

"Mudblood," he said, and watched the mud on her cheek drip down onto the spot below her neck, where the blood was flowing from. The mud and blood had mixed, getting another inward smile from Draco. "Ironic, isn't it?" he asked her, not really expecting an answer. She did not give one anyway.

"And they say you're strong," he said incredulously. "Some strong Gryffindor. Not even strong enough to hide her own tears."

And he was right, for the tears fell on endlessly from her deep brown eyes, and not once did they cease. The cut was too deep and the hurt was lasting forever. It would take a miracle for Hermione to stop crying uncontrollably.

"Malfoy," she croaked. Her eyes were somewhat more high-spirited, even if there were still tears left in them, and having produced more. "If I'm not strong, then what are you? Taking orders to kill mudbloods, when he himself isn't a pureblood. Fancy that..."

"Shut up!" he retorted immediately.

The back of his palm collided with her cheekbone, where there had been a bruise there earlier, and she cried out again. Draco, satisfied with her action, bit back against his lips and allowed himself to sneer at her.

Her head had twisted to the right from the amount of force he had inflicted on her. She didn't look back to him, and she didn't need to, for he had gotten back into her point of vision very quickly.

"I'm going to kill you, and once I do, Potter will be too heartbroken to carry on anymore. What a foolish choice you made to carry on alone." He stood up, brushed his pant leg off from any filth, and stared back down at the shattered image of a once-successful young woman.

"Tsk, tsk, Granger. You would have made such a wonderful trophy for me in my bedroom." He raised an eyebrow suggestively, and allowing Hermione to react disgustedly. "But don't worry, you don't deserve me."

He raised his wand then and spoke, "And now, I shall torture you till insanity, and finally to your death. I shall enjoy having our life in my hands."

Now, lowering the wand closer to her fallen form, he grinned smugly. His gaze fell into her own, and she looked away quickly, feeling very used. What had she done? Why had she gone and thought this man was such a good person? Why had she fell in love with him up until recently? Why was she allowing him to kill her? All because she was foolish.

"So, Granger," Draco said, before touching his wand to her forehead. "Say good-bye to your existence."

As he bent his head low to her own, he caught her lips one last time, for a moment of passion, hate, and deceit. He had been smiling against her lips once he had gotten the best of her. He leaned out afterwards, and strands of his light blonde hair fell into his face, covering his breathtaking eyes away from her view. He was just so close to her, that she could smell the aftershave that he had used that morning.

And the moment, as soon as it had begun, had ended. Hermione, hating herself for letting him get the best of her, shut her eyes, and prepared herself for the worst. And right before she knew it, she heard him say the curse that would destroy her forever, and all of the Light Side along with her.

"Avada-"

But right before he could finish, fate had other plans in stor. From behind Hermione, there was a rustling from the bushes, and a quick loud voice that shouted two powerful words of defense for the girl under the blonde's ways.

The words spoken had triggered a yellow beam that shielded the young lady from the killing curse. And just as Draco had uttered the end of his consent, it had backfired, and had shot him in the chest.

Green outlined the dark-magicked man, and he collapsed to the floor. Hermione, immediately felt her pain loosen up a bit, and she shockingly looked down at the still man before her. Dead was his bitter fate; a fate that had almost ended up to Hermione.

Hermione, craning her neck, glanced behind her only to realize who her savior was. The red-headed young girl ran over to her close friend, and in spite of doing so, so quickly, she did not notice the sinister pair of eyes that followed her movements.

**:-:-:**

_Pansy Parkinson followed the only young Weasley that was a woman with cat-like grace in every move. She watched as she saved the Gryffindor bookworm from the fate that Draco would have provided her with. And she also was determined to kill the little she-weasel for doing so._

So, just as Ginny Weasley had took off toward her best friend, Pansy had whispered the deadly words under her thin breath. The green light zoomed out of her aimed wand, and hit the red-headed girl straight in her mid-back. She fell to the floor instantly, crumbling in silence, in which Hermione screamed in shock.

"Granger," Pansy began, getting out from the darkness, and allowing herself to be seen. "You really shouldn't scream; you sound just like a banshee."

"Parkinson!" Hermione yelled, obviously outraged. She looked toward her unmoving friend, and then back toward the female Slytherin. She instantly stood up, forcing herself to forget the pain she was experiencing at the moment. "You bitch, how dare you?"

Pansy grinned right back at the Gryffindor. "An eye for an eye," she just said in reply.

"Really?" Hermione urged. She spotted her wand from the edge of her eyes, and quickly picked it up before Pansy had any time to react. She pointed it directly at the puggish girl. "Then this shall decide who lives!"

And so began one of the last duels of the day.

Curses were shot at one another. Pansy, shooting off bombs, and Hermione blocking every one of them as much as she could. Every now and then, a sharp pain would strike Hermione around the neck, but it would soon disappear, and only leave her with a disturbing memory.

Pansy, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down her forehead, and knew she was getting tired. Just for the split second she raised a hand to wipe it off angrily, Hermione shouted out a fire spell. A huge ray of fire sprung out of her wand, and although Pansy ducked, it caught onto the trees.

The fire spread instantly, and Pansy panicked, thinking how stupid Hermione had acted. But what Pansy didn't know was that there had been a bomb she had enchanted for behind her own self. The only thing Hermione had been aiming for, was that.

The fire caught hold to the bomb. Pansy's eyes widened. The sound and sight of the explosion was devastating.

Hermione opened her eyes back up, taking in the clean air. She had just witnessed the deaths of three people, two of which she had particularly loved one way or another.

Her eyes locked with the beauty of the glittery green rose, and she didn't realize how drowsy she really was. She felt herself wishing for endless sleep because of the sharp pain she was feeling in her hands and neck. But not as much as the pain she was feeling inside.

As she fell to the floor one final time, the rose too fell out of her grasp, and only flew a few feet away from where she lay. Her breath, almost even, and then gone less, became even more weak. The amount of gas she had taken into her system was just too much.

Looking into the patch of clear blue sky above her, Hermione blinked one last time before she was taken as well. From the shadows on the side, a long dark figure stepped out, coughing slightly before reaching the destination aimed for.

He reached down to where the rose lay on the ashes and dirt, and picked it up in his scratched and bloodied hands. Examining the magnificent flower, a grin twisted his thin lips, and a gleam fell in place with his gray eyes. He had come, seen, and conquered, for he, Draco Malfoy, was still alive.


End file.
